Hang
by SFGrl
Summary: Would you change everything you knew, to win back the love of your life? C/M complete
1. Hang

AN: _Sooo, I wrote this for a fic challenge, a while ago.  Then I forgot about it.  Anyhoo, the story is overdone—actually, I think I may have three other fics just like this, ha!  But, eh, I have writer's block, so I thought I'd post it to pass the time until I can write again….if I can write again.  Sigh.  LOL. This one is dedicated to that guy who left me hanging two years ago…_

**~Hang~**

Monica dried her tears, suddenly feeling much older than her 31 years.  It wasn't his fault, he hadn't done anything wrong, but something inside was tearing her apart.  Just being in the same room with him made her tense.  The last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him—but she didn't have a choice anymore---she was going out of her mind.

"Mon, what are you doing?"  Chandler's voice made her freeze.  She stood there, in one spot, for what felt like an eternity.  Finally, after a deep breath, she turned to face him, and she could see immediately that he had no idea what was about to happen.

"I---I have to leave," she managed to say.

"Leave?  Is something wrong?  Are you okay?"

"Yes---no.  I can't explain right now.  Just know that it is not you.  You've done nothing wrong."

It was then that Chandler began to realize what was happening.  His eyes revealed his panic, as his greatest fear had come to pass.

"Mon—Monica.  You can't be serious."

"I'm sorry, Chandler," Monica whispered, and grabbed her bags.  She walked across the room, and pulled open the top drawer to her desk.  As she rifled through papers, she could hear Chandler pacing the room, stifling sobs.  She heard him approach, and she visibly tensed.  She heard him sigh, and he walked past her, and out to the balcony.  

Only when the door closed, did he allow himself to break down and cry.

she grabs her magazines   
she packs her things and she goes   
she leaves the pictures hanging on the wall

_she burns all her notes and she knows, _

_she's been here too few years to feel this old _

he smokes his cigarette, he stays outside 'till it's gone   
if anybody ever had a heart, he wouldn't be alone   
he knows, she's been here too few years, to be gone 

Maybe it was boredom.  Maybe she was afraid that she was settling on a life that she didn't really want.  She felt tired, and guilty that she was relieved to be away.  She sat in her hotel room, staring blankly at the television, and robotically flipping through the countless cable channels.  She stopped, as something on the TV caught her eye.  She sat up straight, and picked up the phone.

"I need to make a plane reservation," she said into the receiver.

and we always say, it would be good to go away, someday   
but if there's nothing there to make things change   
if it's the same for you I'll just hang 

His life became the epitome of mundane.  He lived to work, instead of working to live.  His friends made an effort to pull him out of his shell, but it became clear that he had no intention of trying to live his life, they gave up and left him to his solitude.  He wallowed in self-misery, and as bad as the pain was, he let himself believe that someday, she would come home.  

The days turned to weeks, the weeks to months, and before he knew it, a year had come and gone.

And she had not come home.

the trouble understand, is she got reasons he don't   
funny how he couldn't see at all, 'til she grabbed up her coat   
and she goes, she's been here too few years to take it all in stride   
but still it's much too long, to let hurt go (you let her go) 

France had everything she was looking for.  Her career was revived, and so was her spirit.  She found herself smiling unconsciously sometimes, and when she realized what she was doing, it suddenly depressed her.  She was happy in her new life, happy without him, and that made her very sad.  She wondered if he had moved on, if he was happy, or if he was waiting for her to come back.  She knew she would have to go back eventually---to face him, and their friends.  She would go back, but she would not stay in New York.

She would not stay.

~*~

She opened the door, and saw him immediately.  Ironically, he was standing in the very spot she'd left him eighteen months ago; on the balcony.  He was staring out into the city, smoking a cigarette.  As she made her way into the living room, he turned, and nearly fell over.  He quickly extinguished the cigarette, and climbed back into the living room.

"Monica," was all he could say.

"Hi," she replied numbly.

"You're back," it was more of a statement than a question.

"Just for a few days," Monica said quickly, making it clear that she was only here to tie up loose ends.

"Oh.  Do the others know?"

"No."

"Are you going to see them?"

"Yes.  After I finish with you," the words came out much harsher than she had intended.  She'd stung him, she could see it in his face.  Her eyes dropped to the floor, and she bit her lip.

"I thought you were already finished with me," Chandler said quietly, his tone revealing his pain.  He sighed, and walked toward her, but she backed away, and he felt his world collapse all over again.

Did she ever love him at all?

She backed away.  But not because she hated him---quite the contrary.  Seeing him again brought back all of the feelings she had spent the past year and a half trying to repress.  She was happy in Paris, she loved her job, and she loved her new friends.  But deep down, she'd never resolved her feelings for Chandler.  And now, in this moment, she began to wonder if she could really leave him again._  
  
_

and we always say, it would be good to go away, someday   
but if there's nothing there to make things change   
if it's the same for you I'll just hang   
the same for you   
I'll always hang   
  


Chandler sighed again, and sat on the sofa.  He would not cry, he would not let her see that she'd hurt him, and that he was hurting still.  She walked toward the window, and looked out over the city that she had once called home.

"Where do you live now?" he asked when the silence became too much to bear.

"Paris," she said softly.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes," she answered honestly.

"Are you here to ask me for a divorce?" his voice was ragged.

"If I said yes, what would you do?"

"I would give it to you.  I would let you go, because you seem happy, happier than you were here with me."

"It's not you, Chandler—"

"I know that one.  'It's not you, it's me.'  Yeah, I've heard it before," Chandler's anger and frustration, that had been building since the day she walked away, finally came to a head, "The thing is, no matter what you say, I still have to live with the fact that you walked out on a marriage that was less than a year old.  YOU left, because you were miserable with ME.  YOU came back, over a year later, looking happier than I've seen you since the wedding. Don't tell me that it isn't me, because somewhere, somehow, **I** have to factor into your decision to leave.  I would like to think that I mattered to you, just a little bit," Chandler spat, tears streaming down his face.

"I love you, Chandler.  I do.  You matter to me, you matter to me more than anything!  You're a part of me!  I just….I wish I could explain.  I felt like I was on a road to a mundane life, and I wanted to see what I was missing," Monica mumbled the last part, and this time, she was the one to approach him, and this time, he was the one to back away.

"I'm sorry I bore you," Chandler said bitterly.  "Just send me the divorce papers, okay?"  He shook his head, and left the apartment, slamming the door as he went.

~*~

She took the first flight back to Paris that night.  She cried the entire flight.

She'd made her decision before she left.  It was time to let go of her childish dreams of adventure and excitement.  She belonged in New York, and she belonged with her husband.

She flew back to New York a week later.  Much to her dismay, she returned to an empty apartment.  

"Where did he go, Joey?  Is he coming back?"

"I don't know.  He said he needed some time away."

well I always say, it would be good to go away   
but if things don't work out like we think   
and there's nothing there to ease this ache   
but if there's nothing there to make things change   
if it's the same for you, I'll just hang 


	2. New Tears & Old Songs

**_New Tears & Old Songs (Hang, Chapter II)_**

****

Nobody ever warns you 

_Or tells you what to do_

_She walks away_

_You're left to stay_

_Alone forever blue_

The sound of silence kept him up most nights.  And when the darkness finally gave way to the morning light, he found himself struggling to greet the day that lay ahead, because he knew that it would only bring him pain and sorrow.

He was angry, too.  Angry at her, for leaving, then coming back into his life.  He was angry at himself, for letting her go, twice.  He was angry because it was easier to be angry, than it was to be sad.

He did his best to forget her, but to no avail.  Then she came back, and everything changed.  He could no longer pretend that her decision to leave was not about him: for as much as she had tried to tell him otherwise, her message to him was clear—she was bored—_he _bored her.

She walked away, and he let her, not because of a selfless need to ensure her happiness—but because he didn't know how to hold on anymore.  He wished he did.

_The stars have all stopped shining_

_The sun just won't break through_

_Each day is the same_

_More clouds, more rain_

_You're left forever blue_

He loved her, and he always would.  And that was why he left his life and his friends behind.  He'd spent the past year saving up as much money as he could, and when he walked out the door that day, the day she came and left again, the day he told his best friend he would see him soon, that day he cleared out his savings, and walked away from everything he'd ever known.  He boarded a plane, and disappeared.  Disappeared from everyone, and from himself.  He no longer wanted to leave his life to chance, to fate.  He wanted to take control, to guide his life in a direction that would bring him what he wanted.

He would change everything, so that maybe, she would love him again.

_Forever blue cause you love her_

_But she doesn't love you_

_You did your best_

_Life did the rest_

_You're left forever blue_

He looked out over the ocean, thousands of miles from the city where he was raised, and he wondered silently, if, in the year since he'd been gone, if she thought about him, too.

_No reason left for living_

_Still there's a lot to do_

_New tears to cry, old songs to sing_

_And feel forever blue_

_And be forever blue_

**_AN: _**_So, I still have writer's block, so if this is lame and doesn't make sense, um…keep it to yourself, LOL. This has no story, really, I just really need to try and work through this funk.  Sigh._

**_Forever Blue, _****©1995, C. Isaak**

**©2002, SFGrl**


	3. Possession

Possession 

(Hang, Chapter III)

Listen as the wind blows  
from across the great divide,  
Voices trapped in yearning,  
memories trapped in time,  
The night is my companion  
and solitude my guide,  
Would I spend forever here  
and not be satisfied,  
  


Months passed.  And it became abundantly clear to everyone that he was not coming back.  Monica tried her best not to let it get to her, she tried her best not to let it show how badly she needed him.  She knew, that they knew, that it was her fault: that she had created the world that she was now trapped in.  She could not find solace in sympathy that did not exist for her.  She loved him, she always had, but her fears had driven her, and then him, to the edge of reason.

She would give her everything, to have one more moment with him, to be able to look into his eyes and see nothing but love and contentment.  But it would never be.  For whatever love and happiness and naivety he had left was forever destroyed the day she moved to France.  Why France?  And why not with him?  What had she been so afraid of?

And I would be the one  
to hold you down,  
kiss you so hard,  
I'll take your breath away  
and after I'd wipe away the tears,  
Just close your eyes dear

She would love him, forever, if given one more chance.  But as the months passed, she knew that he was finding his own way, stumbling toward a reality of his own.  She had no place in the reality he was creating for himself now.  She shivered, as she recalled how many times he'd been hurt, and how she had always sworn she would never hurt him.  Then she did.  And she still could not explain why she'd felt so stifled, why she had seen her future with him, and had cringed.  Now, faced with the reality that she may never see him again, she wondered where the feelings had come from…and where they had gone.  
  
Through this world I've stumbled  
so many times betrayed,  
Trying to find an honest word,  
to find the truth enslaved,  
Oh you speak to me in riddles and  
you speak to me in rhymes  
My body aches to breathe your breath,  
your words keep me alive,  
And I would be the one  
to hold you down,  
kiss you so hard,  
I'll take your breath away  
and after I'd wipe away the tears,  
Just close your eyes dear  
  
Eighteen months.  It had been eighteen months since she had returned to the empty apartment.  No one had heard from him, and they all believed that they never would.  Then, there was a letter.

It was a plain white envelope, with no return address, but a postmark from Hawai'i.  It was addressed to Joey.

_Joey-_

_I don't know where to begin.  I'm on Maui!  I don't know why I chose to come here, but I did, and I have been here ever since.  I wish I could explain to you why I left, and why I will not be coming back.  Trust me when I tell you that it is for the best.  I want to you know just how much you mean to me—how much you all mean to me.  How is everyone?  Are Ross and Rachel together or apart?  Has Phoebe found her true love?  Are you on the road to fame & fortune?  Do you ever hear from Monica?  I wish you all love and happiness, and I hope that you can someday forgive me for not saying goodbye._

_All the best,_

_Chandler_

Against his better judgment, Joey showed the letter to Monica.  She cried, and she smiled.  He was okay, but he wasn't coming back.  She was determined to see him, to make him understand.  The others told her not to.  But she couldn't not do it.  She had to find him.  Her friends relented, but would not let her go alone.  

And two days later, five friends were on their way to Hawai'i.

_Possession, _©1993 Sarah McLachlan


	4. Nightengale

Nightingale 

**_(Hang, Chapter IV)_**

****

The colors were vibrant and alive, painting the sky with a palate of colors like red, orange, peach, blue, indigo, purple, and gray.  The setting sun created a shimmering yellow-orange streak across the turquoise ocean, and in the distance, surfers paddled toward shore, giving up on the now-calm waters for the day.  Several yards away from shore, sat a small, bamboo and palm leaf hut, with open windows and four rickety tables.  Tiki lamps lined the perimeter, and in the center of the hut, sat a square bar.  The raucous, crowded bar countered the calmness of the setting sun and deserted beach.  The four-sided bar was filled to capacity with bikini-clad women, and tanned, muscular men, all shouting drink orders and waving money in the air.  

The bar was one of the most popular in town, and one of the few that were filled with more locals than tourists.  The bar was also a popular hangout for the local surfers, who took advantage of the owner's generous spirit when their money was tight.  It helped, of course, that the owner was a surfer himself—a novice, but a surfer nonetheless.

Rocking, Hawaiian-influenced music thumped out of the speakers, as the two bartenders tossed mixer bottles into the air with expert-precision, wowing the crowd with their "Tom Cruise-in-_Cocktail_" type antics.  For the men, the bar was **the** place to be to pick up on beautiful women; for women, it was the bartender/owner that was the draw.

That, and the fact that they mixed the best drinks in town.

This was the place that was recommended to the five New Yorkers that landed in town two nights earlier.  The quintet had apparently been all around the island, and were keen to find any locals haunts in town.  

"The place to be on Saturday night," said a young waitress earlier that day, "Is Leilani's"

Leilani's was hopping by the time Monica, Ross, Rachel, Phoebe and Joey arrived.  The crowd was wild, loud, and tanned, and the girls couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious.  Both Monica and Rachel eyed the scantily clad woman that floated past them as they entered the bar, and both arched their eyebrows cattily.  Ross and Joey's eyes followed the same woman, as she made her way toward the bar.

"Wow," Ross muttered, and Joey nodded in agreement.  This was definitely the best place they'd been to since they arrived over a week ago.

Monica sighed heavily, and walked fully into the bar area.  "I need a drink," she muttered.  She was beginning to really lose hope that she would ever track Chandler down.  Shaking her head, she pushed her way up to the bar.  Her friends took advantage of the path she'd created, following her closely.  The quintet bellied up to the bar, and watched the impromptu show that was being performed behind the bar.  

There were two bartenders, both tossing bottles high in the air, and behind their backs.  The one facing the New Yorkers was tall and blonde, and fairly muscular.  The sleeves on his white cotton shirt were pulled up to reveal a large shark tattoo on his left upper arm.  He smiled as he mixed the shockingly blue drink in front of him, and made an attempt to ignore the catcalls from the woman that had draped themselves over the bar.  

On the other end of the bar, a slightly shorter, slightly thinner bartender was facing the opposite direction, but, as Phoebe had pointed out not very subtly, the view was just as pleasing.  The other bartender was dressed like the blonde behemoth, in khaki shorts and a white cotton shirt.  He was also blonde, though a much darker blonde.  His hair was long enough to be pulled back into a short ponytail, and he too was tanned and well defined.  Like his partner, he sported a tattoo on his left upper arm—a Celtic band. 

"What can I get you lovely ladies?" the blonde bartender stared at Monica intently.

"Uh, what's your specialty?" Monica smiled.  _For just one night, I'm going to have some fun here.  I am going to forget about Chandler, _Monica's thoughts echoed in her mind as she flirted openly with the bartender.  The man's smile broadened, and a mischievous glint shone in his gray-green eyes.

"You got it," the man winked, and then turned to the crowd, "THE HOUSE SPECIAL!" the man boomed, and the crowd cheered.  The bartender standing on the other side of the bar turned, and tossed a white bottle toward his partner.  Monica felt her breath catch in her throat, as she watched bartender turn toward them.

"Chandler," she whispered.

Chandler had either not noticed them, or was avoiding them, because he did not venture over toward their end of the bar all night.  Once the crowd began thinning out, the group made their way toward Chandler's side of the bar.  They all stood at the bar, watching as Chandler mixed drinks and poured beer quickly and smoothly.  Suddenly, he hopped up onto a shelf, and rang a large brass bell that hung over the bar.

"Last call for alcohol!" Chandler bellowed, and hopped onto the ground.

Things were chaotic for the next several minutes, as Chandler and the other bartender filled frantic last orders from their patrons.  Once things had finally cooled down, Joey decided to try and get Chandler's attention.

"Chandler!" Joey called, as Chandler began filling racks with dirty glasses.

Chandler turned, and upon seeing the group for the first time, smiled broadly.

"Wow, what a surprise!" Chandler said, and walked toward the group, "What are you guys doing here?"

"We got your letter, and we decided to track you down," Joey shrugged.

"It's great to see you guys," Chandler grinned.  His smile faltered, for just a moment, when he looked at Monica.  The crack in his demeanor was not noted by anyone—except Monica.

"Do you guys want a drink?" Chandler asked quickly, hoping to delay the flood of questions that were undoubtedly coming.

"We're okay," Rachel smiled.

"So, Chandler, you're a…bartender?" Ross looked at Chandler incredulously.

"Well, yeah…it's a good job, ya know?"

"Better than a…um, data-typist-guy…what the hell was your old job?"

Chandler chuckled at Ross' strained look, and shook his head.

"Even I'm not sure, man," Chandler laughed.

"Hey Chandler!  Phone call!" a large Hawaiian man stood on the other end of the bar with a white cordless phone.

"Sorry," Chandler smiled, and walked to the other end of the bar.

The group was quiet for a moment, each reflecting on their encounter.

"He seems…happy," Joey noted.

"Yeah…" Rachel mumbled.

"He's…tan," Phoebe noted.

Monica shook her head, and walked out of the bar, and toward the beach, unaware that she was being watched.

"Sorry about that," Chandler smiled forcefully, and stole a glance toward the ocean.

"You should talk to her, Chandler," Phoebe said, and Chandler jerked his head back toward the group.

"What?  What are you talking about?"

"Monica came out here to see you.  The least you can do is talk to her," Ross' tone was much more bitter than he'd meant it to be.

"Yes, you're right, Ross.  Because she certainly did nothing wrong," Chandler's sarcasm was cold, and not the least bit funny.  He shook his head sadly, and hopped over the bar, before heading toward the beach.

Monica was seated on the sand, about six yards from the ocean's edge.  She hugged herself, as a cool breeze whirled around her.  What had she been thinking?  She'd left him, to find a new life, to find a new identity.  But the only thing she'd managed to do was hurt the one person that meant the world to her.  She had absolutely no good reason to be angry with Chandler for leaving.  And really, she wasn't.  She was angry that he was able to make the changes that she had been trying so desperately for.  He had settled into a new life, and found a new identity, and he seemed happy.  **He** had accomplished what **she** had failed at.  And she didn't like the way it made her feel.

She felt empty, and she felt…jealous.

"This is my second favorite place on the island," Chandler's voice pulled her from her reverie.

"Really?" Monica whispered, without looking up at Chandler, "What's your first?"

"I'll have to show you later," Chandler said, as he sat down next to Monica.  When she did not reply, he turned to look out over the ocean.

"Why are you here, Monica?" he asked quietly.

"Why are you here?" Monica responded quickly.

"Are you really going to answer my question with a question?" Chandler furrowed his brow, and looked at Monica.  When she said nothing, he sighed, and pulled his knees to his chest, before resting his arms and head on his knees.

"I needed to get as far away from New York as I could.  This is pretty much the exact opposite of New York, don't you think?"

"Why did you need to leave?"

"Because the city reminds me of you, and of us, and of my failures," Chandler raised his voice, his irritation with Monica's feigned ignorance shining through.

"Your failures?" Monica finally looked over at Chandler, and noted for the first time that night, that he looked sad.  He may be tan, fit, and smiling, but his eyes, his lovely, once-sparkling, sea-blue eyes, never lied to her.  He was hurting, and she was the cause. 

"Our marriage.  I failed to give you the happiness I promised you.  For that, I am sorry, Monica." His words cut Monica like a razor, and she felt guilt and sadness sweep through her.

"Chandler, you didn't do anything—I—" Monica shook her head, and sighed heavily.

"How did we end up here?" Chandler sat up straight, and looked Monica in the eyes, "How did we lose each other so completely?"

"I don't know," Monica sighed, and broke the gaze, "But I want to fix it.  I need you, Chandler, I love you."

"I love you too, Monica," Chandler sighed, and stood up, "But I'm not sure that that's enough anymore."

Monica let him walk away, as she pondered his words.  Maybe it wasn't enough, she thought sadly, but she wasn't giving up.  She smiled, and closed her eyes, as another breeze enveloped her.

Here in paradise, they could begin anew.

_Nightingale_

_Sing us a song_

_Of a love that once belonged_

_Nightingale_

_Tell me your tale_

_Was your journey far too long?_

_Does it seem like I'm looking for an answer_

_To a question I can't ask_

_I don't know which way the feather falls_

_Or if I should blow it to the left_

All the voices that are spinnin' around me 

_Trying to tell me what to say_

_Can I fly right behind you_

_And you can take me away _

**_Nightingale_**_, ©2001, Norah Jones_


	5. The Rose

The Rose 

**_(Hang, Chapter V)_**

****

There was something about dawn on the water.  It was calming, serene, and almost…magical.  The sky was ablaze with brilliant colors, and the world around him was completely quiet, save for the rhythmic lapping of the ocean tide.  Chandler straddled his surfboard, bobbing up and down, as the waves moved the board underneath him.  He kept his eyes on the horizon, like he did every morning, watching for the tide to come in.  On this morning, however, his mind was not in the same place his eyes were.  His mind was on Monica, and the things she had said the previous night.  She had said that she needed him, and, despite all that had happened, that one simple statement had warmed his heart.  But in the back of his mind, he kept reminding himself that they were only words, and that he needed much more. When he'd spoken to her, he could see the desperation and fear that had lined her eyes, and he wanted more than anything to give in, to take her in his arms and forgive everything.  But he knew better.  He knew better than to give all that he was to her.  She'd destroyed him once.

Never again.

 He'd left her at the beach, and wandered home, trusting his bartender David to close up the bar.  He'd collapsed on his bed, exhausted from the chaotic day, yet he wasn't really able to sleep at all. He'd dragged his board out to the beach at first light.  He often did this, so that he could get a jump on the incoming tide before the more experienced surfers arrived.  Chandler was actually a much better surfer than he gave himself credit for, as he had picked up the basics very quickly.  His work restoring the bar, and tossing mixer bottles nightly had helped him build his upper body strength, and while he still had balance issues, he was an exceptionally strong swimmer, owing to his experience on his high school swim team several years earlier.

Sighing heavily, Chandler decided that he was in no mood to surf.  He turned his board toward shore, and pulled his legs up on it, before paddling in.  

By the time Chandler reached shore, the beach was starting to show signs of life.  Other surfers and highly dedicated beach bunnies were making their way toward the water.  Chandler hoisted his board over his head, and hoped no one would stop him and ask why he was walking in the opposite direction.

"Chandler," came a voice from behind, and Chandler sighed and plopped his board into the sand.

"Hey Harry," Chandler smiled pleasantly, as the tall Hawaiian approached.

Hirihito, or Harry, as his friends called him, was quite popular among the beach crowd, particularly Leilani's regulars.  With his muscular build, long, flowing ebony hair, and golden brown skin, he attracted many female tourists around town as well.  Chandler often joked that Harry ventured into the neighboring tourist town Lahaina just for the ego boost—not that he needed it.  Unlike Chandler, who suffered from chronic self-image issues, Harry knew how hot he was.

"Where are you going, man?  The tide is just now coming in!"

"I know, I—I just remembered I had something to take care of," Chandler lied.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with that _sweet thing_ I saw you talking to last night would it?" Harry winked.

"No," Chandler shook his head, and tried to hide his revulsion at the term 'sweet thing' in reference to Monica.  His urge to punch Harry in the face was tempting.

"Whatever man.  You gonna be at the bar later?"

"You know I will be," Chandler said flatly.

"Man, you need to take a vacation!  All that work is gonna kill you!" Harry laughed.

"Someone has to keep the place going," Chandler smiled half-heartedly.  

"Whatever, dude.  You're the owner—that means you can delegate!"

"Yeah, yeah.  Hey Harry," Chandler said, looking out at the water, "You're missing your waves."

"Ah!  Okay, _aloha 'oe_, big guy!" Harry flashed Chandler a toothy grin, and took off toward the beach.

"Aloha 'oe," Chandler sighed, and ventured toward Leilani's.

Leilani's was not set to open for several hours, and even the lunch staff would not be arriving for another two hours or so.  Chandler decided that he would busy himself with mundane paperwork that he'd been putting off all week, in a lame attempt to take his mind off of Monica.

Easier said than done.  As Chandler approached the bar, he saw her, seated at a table, staring a hole through his heart.

~***~

She'd sat at the beach for another hour after Chandler had left her, strategically planning ways to win him back.  Everything she thought up seemed too contrived, or just not good enough for him—for them.  In the end, she'd left the beach more miserable than when she'd arrived—it just seemed hopeless.

She'd tossed and turned all night, never fully falling asleep, her mind's eye haunted by the images before her.  She was shaken by the sadness that lined his eyes, and that she was the cause.  Her guilt was overwhelming her, and she had to constantly reassure herself that he loved her, (otherwise, why would he be so sad?) and would forgive her.  She finally decided to get up, when it became evident that sleep would elude her.

She wandered down to the beach, and was relieved to see that there was no one there.  Standing at the water's edge, she let the water caress her feet lovingly.  She was so lost in thought, she was not aware that the water was chilly, and that her feet her freezing.  Out on the water, her eyes focused on a small figure, bobbing on a surfboard several yards from shore.  The person looked serene, and Monica envied the peacefulness that seemed to surround him.  Sighing sadly, she turned, and made her way back up the beach.  

She wasn't sure whether it was a conscious decision, or fate that pulled her toward Leilani's.  But the sight of the place startled her, and attracted her simultaneously.  She approached the bar cautiously, but upon seeing that it was still closed up, she relaxed slightly, and took a seat on one of the rickety aluminum chairs, and lost herself in thought once more.

She thought about her decision to move to Paris, and wondered how she missed the simple fact that it was a completely selfish act.  What had she hoped to find?  And why was she so miserable in New York?  The answers were slow in coming, but when they did finally hit her, it was an epiphany that stung.  She had placed such high expectations on her marriage, and on her husband; such unrealistic, fantastic ideals that would never be achieved.  Her childhood fantasies were so unattainable, yet she had not seen it like that.  She'd expected to live in a dream—and when the metaphorical honeymoon had ended, she was unprepared.  Now one question remained—would Chandler understand?

She felt his presence before she saw him.  Her eyes finally focused on him, and she felt her entire body tense.  He was looking at her with a mixture of sadness and confusion, as he carried a large white surfboard on his head.  Backed by an early morning glow, Monica could not help but notice just how different he looked.  His hair, much longer than she'd ever seen it, hung loosely around his tanned face, in wild, unruly kinks and tangles.  His arms, tanned and toned, were connected to a body that Monica hardly recognized.  It was like she was looking at a stranger.

He approached, and she took in a sharp breath.  He set down the board with a huff, and studied her face for a long, silent minute.  Then, just when Monica was sure the silence would engulf her, he extended his hand, and spoke.

"Come on," was all he said, and she took his hand.

He led her away from the ocean, and away from the bar—she wondered where they were going, but didn't dare ask.  The silence was too sweet; and his touch was too fragile.  She smiled inwardly.

It was a beginning…it was a pivotal moment—and it was theirs alone.

_Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed,_

_Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed,_

_Some say love, it is a hunger, and endless aching need,_

_I say love; it is a flower, and you its only seed._

_It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance,_

_It's the dream afraid of waking that never takes a chance,_

_It's the one that won't be taken, who cannot seem to give,_

_And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live. _

_When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long,_

_And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong,_

_Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow,_

_Lies the seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose._

The Rose 

(Bette Midler & Amanda McBroom)


	6. A New Day at Midnight

A New Day at Midnight 

(_Hang, Chapter VI_)

They walked in silence, far from the ocean's edge, and far from civilization, it seemed.  Chandler gripped Monica's hand tightly as they proceeded.  It seemed as though he was afraid that she'd run, or disappear, should he let go, or even loosen his grip.  Monica watched him intently, as he made his way down a path he obviously knew well.  His jaw was set tight, and his eyes were hazy.  They walked down a tree-covered path, and the further they went, the thicker the jungle seemed to get.  Thick, leafy trees covered the sky above, and twisted twigs and branches snaked their way over the dirt path.  Eventually, the path seemed to disappear entirely, and the fleeting thought that Chandler was leading her into the jungle to abandon, or kill her nearly made her chuckle out loud.  Chandler paused briefly at a small cliff, before reluctantly releasing Monica's hand to climb down the rocky cliff face.  He hopped down, and turned to help Monica, who was already making her way down.  As she neared the bottom, the rock she was balanced on gave way, sending Monica flailing toward the ground.  She felt a set of strong arms wrap around her waist, and pull her to safety.  They stood face to face, locked in a strangely uncomfortable embrace, for an unusually long period of time.  Then, as though he had just come out of a trance, Chandler released Monica, and took a long step back.

"Thank you, for-uh…catching me," she whispered meekly.

Chandler said nothing; he simply smiled, and proceeded down the "path".

They walked for several minutes more, and then suddenly came upon a clearing.  The sight before her caused Monica to gasp in wonder.

Tropical flowers of all shapes and sizes framed a small, turquoise natural pool.  Cascading into the pool was a small, shimmering waterfall.  The pool was completely surrounded by thick foliage, and Monica wondered how Chandler had ever found this slice of paradise.

"Eden," Chandler whispered softly.  

"What?" Monica started at the sound of Chandler's soft voice.

"That's what it's called," Chandler finally looked at Monica, though his eyes still carried a blankness that Monica found unsettling.

"Oh.  Chandler, it-it's amazing."

"It's my favorite place on the island," Chandler smiled, as he made his way down toward the water.  Monica watched, as he stripped off his sleeveless shirt, flimsy sandals, and board shorts, and dove into the water.  He swam to the middle of the pool, then turned to face her, his arms skimming the surface in front of him, helping to keep him afloat.

Monica began to undress, then hesitated, when she realized that she was not wearing a bathing suit.  She smiled ruefully, when a new realization came to her—he'd seen her naked before—a lot!  She shook her head as she stripped off her shorts and tank top—but opted to keep her bra and panties on.  She wondered why she suddenly felt so shy around a man she'd known for the better part of her life.  _He's your husband, _Monica told herself.  _Ex-husband, _she corrected, her heart hurting at the thought.  But they were, in the eyes of the law, divorced.  And they hadn't been intimate in over two years.

Two years.

She gingerly stepped into the water, and was pleasantly surprised to find it quite warm.  She looked up, and noted that Chandler had seemingly disappeared.  She waded deeper into the water, her eyes searching for where he could have gone.  Suddenly, he resurfaced, in the same spot where he'd been initially.  Monica screamed and jumped back.  Chandler smiled mischievously, then swam toward the waterfall.

Monica shook her head, but followed Chandler through the pool and toward the waterfall.  She emerged on the other side, only to find Chandler wading on the other side, his face once again somber.

"Chandler, I—"

"Don't, Monica.  Don't tell me you're sorry.  Don't tell me that you love me and that you need me.  I can't—" Chandler sighed, and looked up at the dark rock face that curved above their heads, "I don't want to ruin this…place…this moment." His voice was raspy, and Monica had to strain to hear him over the spray of the water.

"I wanted to thank you…for sharing this place with me," Monica smiled, and moved closer to Chandler.  She saw him tense at the invasion of his space, and she backed away slightly.  After an uncomfortable, long silence, Chandler turned to stare at the back end of the waterfall.

"I thought of you," he finally said softly, "When I found it.  I knew you would love it."

"Really?" Monica's voice was small and shaky.

"Yeah," Chandler looked down at Monica and smiled, "It's almost as stunning as you are."

Monica felt her eyes tear up, and she looked away from Chandler quickly.

"I don't deserve that," she said coldly.

"Maybe not," Chandler sighed, "but it's true."

"What are we going to do, Chandler?  Where do we go from here?"

"I'm not sure.  But I can't let you hurt me again.  I won't make it again, I won't survive it."

"I know," Monica whispered.

"But," Chandler sighed, "I can't _not_ be with you.  I can't walk away, knowing you want this too."

"You—you're willing to give our marriage another chance?" Monica's eyes lit up, and she smiled hesitantly.

"No," Chandler shook his head, and watched Monica's face fall, "Not yet," Chandler smiled.

Monica nodded slowly, as she took in everything Chandler was telling her.  And for the next hour, she let him release all of his pent-up anger and frustration with all that she'd done.  She tentatively told him that she'd returned from Paris right after he'd left, and he chuckled at the irony.  They swam back to the other side of the pool, and wandered back into town at about noon.

"I have to go," Chandler said, as they reached the road that led to Leilani's—the road where their journey had begun.

"Okay…I should probably find the others," Monica laughed stiffly and rolled back on her heals.

"Yeah.  I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay."

Monica watched, as Chandler shuffled toward his bar, and she sighed heavily.  He was willing to try—and that's all she could ask of him.

~***~

A few hours later, the group made their way down to the beach, all of them visibly relaxed upon hearing the news that Chandler and Monica had talked.  Monica had purposely left out the tiny detail that they'd talked at 'Eden'—she knew her friends well enough to know that they would all beg to see it.  It was Chandler's special place, and it was his decision to make whom he shared it with.

The group found Chandler working at his bar once again.  Monica noted that he, too had showered and changed, and she felt her heart lurch—he looked amazing.  He flashed his friends a grin, and pulled off his white apron as he approached.

"Hey, there you guys are," Chandler smiled, "you wanna go to the beach?"

"Uh, sure, but don't you have to work?" Ross asked.

"Eh, David can handle this crowd," Chandler tossed his apron onto the bar, and led the group out toward the beach.

"But won't your boss be mad?" Ross continued.

"He IS the boss," Harry boomed, causing Ross to jump and screech.

"Hey Harry," Chandler laughed, and then introduced his friends.  He glared at Harry as he introduced Monica, daring him to comment again.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet these friends Chandler's always going on about," Harry chuckled, as he slapped Chandler on the back.

"HARRY!" a small, Hawaiian woman shrieked, as she ran toward the group.

"What's wrong, Meili?" Harry crinkled his brow.

"Lia and Ricky…they were in the water…I can't find them…" Meili struggled to talk through labored breaths.

Harry and Chandler glanced at each other, and sprung into action, both ripping off shirt and shoes as they ran at full speed into the ocean.  Following Meili's extended finger, they dove into the pounding waves, and swam out past the breaks.

Meili and Chandler's friends jogged toward shore, and watched intently as the two men dove under the water, searching for the missing children.

Moments later, Harry emerged, his large arm wrapped protectively around a small, unconscious child.  The little boy looked like a rag doll in Harry's arms, as he rushed toward shore.  He lay the child on the sandy shore, and immediately began CPR.  After a few tense moments, the child sputtered out a large quantity of water, and began wailing immediately.  A small crowd had gathered on the beach, and collectively sighed when the child was revived.  With one child out of harm's way, the audience focused on the water once more.

Monica had never taken her eyes off of the water.  She watched, as Chandler dove in and out of the water, searching for the other child.  David, Chandler's bartender, had heard the commotion on the beach, and came jogging out as Harry was resuscitating Ricky.  He ran out toward the water, knowing that Chandler would be getting exhausted.

Chandler pulled Lia's limp little body to the surface, and took a long, deep breath.  The girl needed help, but Chandler wasn't sure he had the strength to get them both back to shore.  His predicament was solved, when he saw David approaching.

"Chandler, you okay?" David yelled.

"Yeah.  Take her, David, get her to shore," Chandler gingerly handed Lia to David.

"What about you?"

"I just need a minute to catch my breath.  I'm fine," Chandler smiled, "Go!"

David nodded, and swam back to shore with Lia.

Chandler took a deep breath, and looked toward shore.  He could see the blurry images of his friends, and could see Monica watching him, as the others helped David to shore.  Taking another deep breath, he told himself that swimming in would be a lot easier, since he was swimming with the tide.  Although something in the back of his mind told him he should wait a moment more, he decided he was strong enough, and began swimming toward the breakers.

The wave was unusually large, and seemed to come out of nowhere.  It pulled him under without warning, and sent him careening toward the ocean floor.

Monica watched in horror, as a gigantic wave pulled Chandler under.  Behind her, she vaguely heard the sounds of the other child being revived. She counted the seconds, and scanned the water, her anxiousness overwhelming her.  Finally, when she could take it no more, she turned to Harry and screamed.

"Harry—Chandler hasn't come back up."

_The dawn in all its majesty_

_Is stealing me away_

_The dawn in all its honesty_

_Is turning me to clay_

_And through the bars of iron rain_

_Way beyond and back again_

_I hear the voice of Eden cry_

_Lift me up I'm walking on high_

_It's real love_

_Real love_

_This world in all its clarity_

_Is glorious, is fake_

_This world in all its vanity_

_Is more than I can take_

_And down the road the iron wheels_

_Chain my heart to how it feels_

_I hear the voice of Eden cry_

_Lift me up I'm walking on high_

_It's real love_

_Real love_

_Real love_

_Real love_

_And something in the heart of me_

_Is telling me it's time_

_To meet the eye of destiny_

_And leave it all behind_

_And through my bones an iron rage_

_paints my soul upon the page_

_I hear the voice of Eden cry_

_Lift me up to walk on high_

_Makes me wanna lay and die_

_It's real love_

_Real love_

_Real love_

_Real love_

_The dawn in all its majesty _

_Is stealing me away_

**_Real Love (David Gray)_**


	7. Landslide

Landslide 

**_(Hang, Chapter VII)_**

It was unbearably dark, and painfully silent.  He could feel powerful, invisible forces pushing and pulling him in all directions at once, and he did his very best not to panic.  Suddenly, and without warning, he saw a small, white, watery image.  He watched as the image reached out, and cupped his face tenderly.

_Monica._

She wrapped her arms around him, and he felt the warmth of her touch fill his heart with serenity.  The silence was still there, but the darkness seemed slightly less threatening now, in this moment, with her.

_I love you._

He struggled to reply, but the words escaped him. He wrapped himself in her, hoping that she would understand, wishing he could live inside of her forever.

She pulled away, floating like and angel, and he was suddenly so cold, and so alone.

_Goodbye._

No, no she can't leave.  He needed her like she needed him.  He loved her.  Don't go.

_I love you._

Don't go.

Suddenly, there was only darkness.

~***~

There was chaos on the beach, after Monica said that Chandler hadn't come up.  Harry and David both sprinted into the water, followed very closely by Ross, Joey, Phoebe and Rachel.  The four friends paused when they were about waist-deep into the ocean.  They all suddenly seemed to realize that they had no idea what to do.  They all stood, in a stunned, panicked silence, waiting.

Waiting.

Monica stood frozen on the shore, suddenly unable to breath.  Her body began trembling, and the trembling only increased as the seconds, and then the minutes passed by.  She could not longer see the blurry images of Harry and David, both flailing around in the water, searching frantically for their fallen friend.

"What's going on?" Ross' horrifying scream broke Monica's trance.  She waded out toward her friends, and caught sight of David and Harry swimming parallel with the shore, and away from the spot where she'd seen Chandler go down.

"What are they doing?" Monica screamed hysterically, as she began wading out toward the breakers.

"Miss, no!  They know what they are doing!  You'll only get hurt!" a large Hawaiian man was running toward Monica, and Ross turned to see the worried look that lined his eyes.  He quickly chased after Monica, and pulled her back toward shore.

"No! Ross, let me go!" Monica screamed, as she squirmed in his arms.

"It's gonna be okay, Monica," Ross whispered, trying to calm his baby sister.

But Monica was staring straight ahead now, in a strange, trance-like state.  Ross turned her so that she was facing him, and watched as her eyes searched for something…then, as suddenly as she had fallen into the trance, she snapped out of it, and looked up at Ross.

"No," she whispered hoarsely, and began to sob.

~***~

Dark, cold, silent, alone.  His mind was breaking down, as his body gave up the struggle to fight the natural tomb that encased him.  He hardly registered the strong, brown arms that encircled him, and pulled him into the light.

~***~

The group waded back to shore, and turned just in time to see Harry pulling Chandler's lifeless body toward them.  David was also wading in, and Ross and Joey rushed to help Harry with Chandler.  The three men lay Chandler gently on the warm sand, and Harry immediately went to work on him, determined to make him breathe.  A small circle had gathered around Harry and Chandler, and for a long time, the only sounds that could be heard were Harry's attempts at resuscitation, and the calm, rhythmic lapping of the ocean that had consumed all of them.

"Come on," Harry whispered between breaths, as he pushed on Chandler's abdomen sharply.  His eyes were filled with determination, and his mind refused to register any type of failure.

He sputtered, then coughed, and Harry turned him on his side, as what seemed like about a gallon of water flowed out of Chandler.  He coughed furiously, then slowly sat up.

"You okay, man?" Harry wrapped an arm around him, steadying his friend as he sat up.

Chandler nodded, then looked at Harry quizzically.

"Riptide.  There's a mean one out there today. My guess is that was what pulled the kids so far past the breakers."

Chandler nodded and shot Harry a slightly panicked look.

"Oh, the kids are fine," Harry smiled, and looked up at the crowd.  His calm demeanor relaxed the group that had gathered.  As the paramedics pushed their way through the crowd, Chandler scanned the group, looking for Monica.  When his eyes finally found her, he visibly relaxed, and he reached out for her.   She smiled through her tears, and grasped his hand in hers, as the paramedics wrapped Chandler in a blanket, and prepared to take him to the hospital.

~***~

Chandler was examined and released later that night, but was under doctor's orders to take it easy, and to stay the hell out of the ocean for a week.  The latter instruction annoyed Chandler to no end, as his surfer instincts took hold.  He walked out into the waiting area of the ER, and was mildly surprised to see that his old friends were all there.  They all hugged him as he came in, all relieved to see that he seemed to be just fine.  But Chandler's mind was still on Monica, and the images that had haunted him when he had been under water.  He looked at her silently for a long moment, though Monica refused to meet his gaze.  The others took the hint, and told Chandler that they would be outside.  

Chandler approached Monica slowly, and when she finally looked up, he could see the fear that still filled her eyes.  He smiled, and pulled her toward him, then wrapped his arms around her securely.

She was stiff and quiet in his arms for a moment, then, as he tightened his grip, she relaxed in his arms, and sobbed into his chest for a long time.  He simply let her cry, rubbing her back soothingly and whispering softly.  After several moments, she stopped and pulled away from Chandler slightly, to look into his eyes.

"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, her voice shaky and uncertain.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered confidently, his throat still soar from the salt water and the painful coughing fits.  He pulled her toward him again, rocking her back and forth as she cried once more.  He kissed the top of her head, and closed his eyes, taking in the warmth that consumed him, and filled him with hope.

_I took my love and I took it down_

_Climbed a mountain then I turned around_

_And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills_

_Well the landslide brought me down_

_Oh, mirror in the sky_

_What is love?_

_Can the child within my heart rise above_

_Can I sail through the changing ocean tides_

_Can I handle the seasons of my life_

_Well, I've been afraid of changin'_

_'Cause I built my life around you_

_But time makes you bolder_

_Children get older_

_I'm getting older too_

_Well, I've been afraid of changin'_

_'Cause I built my life around you_

But time makes you bolder 

_Children get older_

_I'm getting older too_

_Well, I'm getting older too_

_So, take this love and take it down_

_Yeah, and if you climb a mountain and ya turn around_

_And If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills_

_Well the landslide brought me down_

_If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills_

_Well maybe ... _

_Well maybe ... _

_Well maybe ... _

_The landslide will bring you down._

Landslide 

**(Stevie Nicks)**


	8. Daylight

Daylight 

_(Hang, Chapter VIII)_

Chandler sat on the narrow stretch of beach that ran in front of his bar, the sounds of the night echoing in his ears.  He gazed out at the ocean, his mind whirling.  It was beautiful, the ocean: beautiful to look at, beautiful to listen to, beautiful to breathe in…everything about it was enchanting, intimate and grand simultaneously.

But it was deadly.

The ocean that Chandler sat in front of was the very same ocean that had nearly killed him, and yet he was absolutely and totally drawn to it.  He thrived on it, and felt a vacancy in his soul when he was away from it.  He respected the beauty and the deadliness of it completely.

And the irony had not escaped him.

The ocean, and his feelings for it, mirrored his feelings for Monica.  Like the ocean, Monica had nearly killed him when she'd walked away, and did manage to corrupt his soul when she returned to ask for a divorce.  But like the ocean, Chandler was drawn to Monica, and found that he could not live his life, if she wasn't in it.  He sighed heavily, as he leaned back, and dug his hands deep into the sand.  The granules underneath the surface were crisply cool, but the action was strangely comforting.  Kind of like when he stuck his hands in his pockets.  His mind was on Monica, and the steps he needed to take to keep her in his life.  He wondered how much she would be willing to sacrifice to be with him.  He also wondered how much he was willing to sacrifice to be with her.  He knew that he could not sacrifice all; that he could not give her his everything, because if he did, and she walked away again, it would kill him.  He loved her, he loved her with everything that he was, but he wasn't sure that that was going to be enough.

"Hey," Monica whispered, and slowly sat down in the sand beside Chandler.

"Hey," Chandler smiled, and watched her as she sat down.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Thinking," Chandler sighed.

"About?" Monica arched an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side slightly.

"You," Chandler's eyes softened, and he smiled shyly.

"Me?" Monica felt her cheeks flush.  _What a strange reaction, _Monica told herself.  She was reacting like someone who was out on a first date.  She watched Chandler, as he broke his gaze, and looked out at the ocean again.  Could it be?  Was she falling in love with him all over again?  But she had always loved him…so that was impossible, right?

"I was thinking about how I was almost killed yesterday, yet I still want to run out into the ocean."

"What?" Monica furrowed her brow.

"I still love the ocean, even though she almost destroyed me," Chandler's eyes were sparkling with unshed tears as he turned to Monica again.

Monica knew in an instant that Chandler was not talking about the ocean anymore, and she was rendered speechless by his honesty.

"When I was out there, I—felt you—around me, inside me…and I knew that I was going to be okay, as long as you were there."

"Chandler—"

"I love you, Monica, and I know that it's going to be hard, but I just don't think I can be without you."

"I love you too," Monica whispered, tears running down her cheeks.

"But—" Chandler sighed, and wiped Monica's tears gingerly with the back of his hand, "I can't go back to New York, either."

Monica was taken aback by this revelation, and tried her best to hide it, but was unsuccessful.

"Mon, I understand if you can't leave New York, but I really need to stay here.  This is where I want to be now, and I—"

"I can move," Monica blurted suddenly, surprising both of them.

"What?"

"I can.  I want to.  Look, it doesn't matter where I live…as long as I'm with you," Monica smiled, "I'll do whatever it takes."

"What if I said I wanted to move to…uh…Tulsa, Oklahoma?" Chandler asked wryly.

"I'd go in a heartbeat," Monica smiled.

"Really?"

"Yes," Monica grinned.

"It's…a good first step," Chandler smiled, and leaned back onto his elbows.

"It is," Monica rubbed his upper arm, before leaning back on her elbows next to him.

Then, under the cool, soft sand, his hand silently found hers, as they awaited the coming of the morning light.

_To my surprise_

_And my delight_

_I saw a sunrise_

_I saw a sunlight._

_I am nothing _

_In the dark_

_And the clouds burst_

_To show the daylight_

_Oooh and the sun will shine_

_Yeah on this heart of mine_

_Ooooh and I realise_

_Who cannot live without_

_Ooooh come apart without_

_On a hilltop_

_On a sky-rise_

_Like a firstborn_

_Child_

_And at full tilt_

_And in full flight_

_Defeat darkness_

_Breaking daylight_

_Oooh and the sun will shine_

_Yeah on this heart of mine_

_Ooooh and I realise_

_Who cannot live without_

_Ooooh and come apart without_

_Daylight_

_Slowly breaking through the daylight _

**_Daylight (Coldplay)_**

**_AN: That's it!!  Yeah, it's short but, well, it goes with the song, okay?? Please leave me a little review…I need to feel the love, baby, lol._**

**_Epilogue coming soon…_**

**_A_**


	9. Open Arms

**_AN: _**_This is pretty short, but I just wanted to wrap it up.  Please let me know what you think of this series.  Thanks!_

Open Arms 

_(Hang, Epilogue)_

"Rach, come on, we're gonna miss the flight!" Ross was in full panic-mode, jumping up and down while Joey and Phoebe rushed out the door and headed for the cab.

"Ross, don't yell at me, I'm coming!" Rachel growled, as she dragged two suitcases and a bag out into the living room.

"Honey, are you kidding me?  We're only gonna be there for, like, a week."

"I know," Rachel said nonchalantly, as she dragged the bags out the door.  Ross rolled his eyes and shook his head—some things _never_ change.

But some things do.  Ross and Rachel had rediscovered long-ago buried feelings in their time in Hawai'i a year and a half ago, and they were now living together in the apartment that had once belonged to Chandler and Monica.  The apartment was filled with loving, wonderful memories, and Monica didn't have the heart to allow strangers rent it out.  Rachel moved in for a while, and a few months later, Ross moved in with her.

Joey still lived across the hall, and Phoebe several blocks away.  Though the group missed both Chandler and Monica's presence, they were all happy that their friends had come to their senses, and found each other again.

The ride to the airport was filled with excited chatter, as the four friends relived the joyful times, and the sadder times, including the events surrounding their last trip to Hawai'i…

Eighteen Months Ago 

"So, you're just gonna stay here?" Ross asked, shocked.  They were in Chandler's bar, and Monica had just revealed her plans to stay with Chandler.

"Chandler's life is here now…and I want to—I need to be where he is," Monica smiled, as Chandler approached with a tray full of drinks.

"When are you coming back to New York?" Joey asked sadly.

"We're not sure, Joe," Chandler said, as he sat down, "but you are welcome to come here whenever you want to."

"I can't believe you are staying here," Rachel said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I need to be here, with Chandler," Monica said softly.

Present 

"I'm so glad you guys came!" Monica said, while in mid-hug with Rachel.

"We wouldn't miss our best friend's uh—second wedding for anything!" Rachel giggled.

"I know, I know, but this time, it's for good, I swear!"

"So Ross, when are you gonna take the ol' marriage dive?" Chandler smiled.  Off of Monica's disgusted look, he corrected himself, "I mean, when are you guys gonna join your hearts and souls forever in love," he said with a wistful—if a bit of a sarcastic—tone.

"I uh, well, I, um—" Ross stammered.

"Wow, that's—reassuring, honey," Rachel shook her head, as the others laughed.

~*~

The setting sun produced a dazzling array of pinks, indigos, blues, oranges and purples, and provided the perfect canopy for the ceremony about to take place underneath.  Down on the beach, just yards from the turquoise ocean that ebbed and flowed toward them, stood a large Hawaiian man, dressed in khaki board shorts and a dark green Hawaiian shirt.  Next to him, stood the groom.  Chandler was dressed in Khaki board shorts, and a white cotton shirt, so thin it billowed in the light breeze that whispered around them. Around his neck, he wore a simple green lei. 

Chandler's eyes danced, and his smile brightened, as he watched his bride approach.  

Monica was dressed in a white cotton, ankle-length dress that accentuated her bronze skin.  She wore a wreath of magenta flowers and deep green leaves over her long ebony hair, that matched the band she wore on her ankle, and the lei around her neck.  No one, not even the guests, wore shoes, giving the outdoor ceremony a decidedly casual feel.

As Monica approached him, Chandler took her hands in his, and gave them a reassuring squeeze.  The couple looked at each other lovingly, as the officiate recited an old Hawaiian ceremony.

Thirty minutes later, the group was gathered in Chandler's bar, celebrating Chandler and Monica's second-try at marriage.  Rachel noted that both of them seemed to be glowing with happiness.  She didn't need Phoebe's self-proclaimed sixth sense to see that this time, Chandler and Monica would be together forever.

"I love you," Chandler whispered softly, as he and Monica swayed slowly to the music that filled the bar.

"I love you, too," Monica smiled, and pulled herself closer to Chandler.

"I'll bet you never planned for a wedding quite like this," Chandler smiled.

"The past few years have been a little…unexpected," Monica laughed.

"Well, learn to expect the unexpected…I plan to keep you on your toes for the next sixty years," Chandler grinned.

"I don't mind at all…as long as I'm with you, I'll be just fine.  I'll be home."

_Lying beside you, here in the dark_

_Feeling your heart beat with mine_

_Softly you whisper, you're so sincere_

_How could our love be so blind?_

_We sailed on together_

_We drifted apart_

_And here you are by my side_

_So now I come to you, with open arms_

_Nothing to hide, believe what I say_

_So here I am with open arms_

_Hoping you'll see what your love means to me_

_Open arms_

Living without you, living alone 

_This empty house seems so cold_

_Wanting to hold you, wanting you near_

_How much I wanted you home_

_But now that you've come back_

_Turned night into day_

_I need you to stay._

_So now I come to you, with open arms_

_Nothing to hide, believe what I say_

_So here I am with open arms_

_Hoping you'll see what your love means to me_

_Open arms_

**_"Open Arms" (Perry/Cain)_**


End file.
